Professor,
How are you doing? I hope you are well. I owe you so much, especially my thanks.
I served for my actions and am now slowly adjusting back into society.
Supposedly in a few months I'll be back at the paper, but as an editor. Right now they want me to sort everything out first.
How are Luke and Flora doing? They must still be learning so much from you every day. It's been almost seven years, how old are they now?
(a large ink stain and some scribbles)
Professor, I would really like to see you again.
You saved my life twice now. I would like to show you my thanks.
If you could write me back soon, not to sound bold, but I would like to catch a train back to London soon.
I'm not liking the hotel too much, and I could really use your guidance at this point.
Though, don't feel obligated to write back. I understand, you are very busy.
Best regards,
Clive
The brunette man quickly folded the parchment, placing it into the envelope and sealing it before he could try to re-write it. He scribbled on the name and address of the well known Hershel Layton before slipping himself from the dankly hotel room and down to the mail box on the curb. Taking a deep breath before slipping the envelope into the slot. There was no going back now. However maybe he addressed it wrong, or it would get lost in the mail. Then he would stay in the hotel for a long time, until he got the inspiration to leave.
He was happy to be free from prison, while he knew he had deserved to spend the time he did, he was relieved to be away from it all. Now all he could do was go back to his 'home' and wait for any response from the Professor.
Layton shuffled through the mail on the counter, a normal letter from Luke, one was received almost everyday, depending on the happenings of course. Luke and Flora were both occupied with school, though Flora lived in residence of the private school during the week, she came home over weekends and holidays if she didn't have too much to do. Luke visited whenever he could. There was something different about the mail today though. It wasn't a bill day, but there seemed to be another letter. Just legible enough writing with no return address.
Hershel sat down at the kitchen table with his morning tea, setting Luke's letter aside gently, he cautiously opened the other envelope. Unfolding the letter he glanced at the bottom of the page to see the signers name. Clive. He couldn't believe it, well, he could, but he was astounded! He hurried and read over the letter several times before he rushed to the small home office and began writing his reply.
It had been several days and a couple letters exchanged with, 'Do come visit.' And 'My train is on Wednesday.' Along with the 'I'll pick you up at the station.'
Then the letters stopped. But that was because the last was received on Tuesday night. No time to write back, and even if Clive did, the Professor would get the letter when Clive was there in person. It was now early Wednesday morning, the Professor's little car trucking along, just pulling in to see the train also arrive. He rushed to the station platform in order to keep the promise to meet the other. He scoured the crowd of people for the brunette, he finally found him, almost the last person off the train. Clive caught the Professor from the corner of his eye and rushed over, burying himself on the mans coat.
He quickly backed up, 'Oh, I'm sorry. I just-'
Layton patted his shoulder before grabbing one of the bags Clive had dropped, both men started towards the car.
They were at the house now, the car ride had been very quiet. Just casual words exchanged. Clive finally spoke up.
'P-Professor..'
'Layton is fine, Clive.' He smiled to the other as he opened the door.
'Thank you. For everything.'
'Of course.' He nodded, understanding what Clive meant. They began up the stairs of the townhouse, 'Let me show you to your room, you may want to take a shower, and I believe I have an extra razor if you wish for a shave.' He walked into the empty bedroom and placed the bag next to the bed. 'In the mean time I'll make us some lunch.'
'O-oh you don't have to really. I'll just take a quick shower and be right down.'
'No no, it's the best I can do, you are a guest.' He quickly walked past Clive so the other could not protest.
Clive entered the washroom and noticed a nicely folded tower along with a razor. The Professor is really treating me much too well. He thought to himself as he started stripping down. He soon stepped into the shower, hot water rolling down the curves of his body. He started washing his hair and face, then his mind went somewhere else. To the gentle hands of the gentleman downstairs, as though he was standing in the shower with him, caressing his skin. Clive slid his hand down his abdomen, regretfully feeling himself, he had already become hard from the thoughts combined with the warmth of the water. He started stroking himself, soft moans emitting from his lips.
'Ah…ah, Professor..' he had to sturdy himself against the back wall as the image of the other man touching him became more vivid, his imagination doing most of the work. Soon enough he released, white coated his hand but was washed away all very quickly.
Face red, the brunette managed to pull himself out of the shower, he wiped some steam off the mirror with his towel, looking into guilty eyes. He turned away and quickly got dressed then faced the mirror as best he could for a shave. Soon he stepped out of the warm room to the hallway, he was bombarded by cool air and the sound of dishes being set on the table downstairs. He descended into the kitchen, the older man looking up at him.
'Much better, now let us have our lunch.'
Clive tugged on his white shirt as he sat down, 'Pr- Layton..'
'Tea?'
'Yes please.' The hot liquid was poured into his cup, 'Thank you.'
'Clive I wanted to talk to you about something.'
The younger gulped, 'What about? I don't expect you'd be the type of man to talk about my time in prison.' He laughed lightly.
'No, I just-' Layton paused, 'We'll talk about it after lunch. Let us just enjoy for now. So you are going back into the paper? Wonderful.'
The two chatted like old ladies over lunch, Clive feeling much more relieved now. That was until they exited to the other room, Clive taking a seat on the small sofa, Layton in the chair partially across from him.
'I wanted to inquire you on something.'
'On what, Professor?'
'Layton, and it's just I heard something peculiar from the washroom as I was walking past to place clean sheets on the bed.'
Clive's face had gone red, he did his best to hide it, not looking at the other man. 'I, um…'
'See, I would have sworn I heard someone moaning my name. Was it you?'
The Professor knew the answer, he knew the goddamn answer, he just wants me to admit it! 'It, it was. I'm, I'm sorry, I didn't realize-'
'Oh no trouble. I just needed to make sure my ears did not deceive me.' He took a sip of his tea, Clive's eyes almost falling out of his head. Did he seriously just make Clive embarrass himself like that for clarity?
'Layton there is something I have to tell you.' He looked straight at the other man, 'If you choose to ask me to leave after, I understand.'
The man nodded as to ask the other to continue.
'I'm, I'm…' he paused taking a breath in, 'I'm in love with you! So very much in love…and I needed to visit you because you were the only person I could think that I wanted to see, that I wanted to help me. I knew you were also the only kind enough to do so. I-…I… I hoped that you could make me feel as though I was worth something.'
He slunk back down into his seat, covering his face like a child. A clink of a glass settling on the saucer brought his eyes up to meet those of the other man, before lips were on lips. The young man shocked from this suddenness was still until the other man pulled back.
Hershel made his way around the small coffee table and sat close to Clive on the couch, pulling him in for another kiss. This time both men working to mesh lips together, emitting small sounds again and again. Tongues began to swirl together as teeth clashed for dominance over the other, Clive submitting to the Professor quite easily.
The younger's hands began to wander, trying to find the metal buckle on the mans trousers. Once he had finally had it undone, Hershel began sucking on his neck, nipping the smooth skin. Clive let out a moan, the Professor stopped and they locked eyes before their mouths met again. Clive's hand now trailed into the Professors pants, taking his length in his hand and rubbing it slowly. Layton's breath hitched giving Clive the chance to move onto the floor. He pulled down the regular brown pants and the white underwear, releasing Layton's cock from it's confines. Clive's breath lightly blew onto it as he hovered his lips over the head. Slowly using his tongue first, he took the length into his mouth, Layton releasing a relieved moan. His strong hands reached down, lacing fingers in the smooth hair, coaxing the other into it. Clive mostly used his tongue, enjoying the taste of the man in his mouth, savouring it.
Layton pulled Clive's face from his nether regions, the mans mouth releasing with a light pop. Their lips clashed together again. Layton quickly tucking himself back into his pants before leading Clive to the bedroom. The boy on his back, Layton was on top of him, and had begun to strip off the white shirt, exposing a fine, bare chest. Hershel sucked down from Clive's jaw to his chest, running a flat tongue over one of the pert nipples, Clive emitted a moan. Sitting up he desperately fuddled to get the gentleman's coat off. Cautiously he removed the mans hat, placing it on the stand next to the bed. He yanked off the orange sweater revealing the mans chest he rubbed his hands over it as Layton did his best to focus on getting Clive's pants off.
Once both men were fully undressed they began roughly kissing, Layton's hand wrapped around both cocks, pumping them at a good pace.
'Layton, I want you to make love to me.'
'I want to, but I don't want to hurt you. I don't have any, um, supplies.'
'Hang on.' The younger got up and scattered off to his room, soon he came back with a small bottle. 'Here.'
Layton eyed him mysteriously, 'Did you plan that this would happen?'
'Of course not. I just hopped it would be a likely possibility.' He sat on Layton's lap with a leg on either side, the other man pouring some of the liquid into his hand, he rubbed it around before reaching behind Clive, a single finger up against his arse.
Their lips met again as one finger was inserted, a breathy moan released. Soon a second finger was added, thrusting motion and a nimble hand on the mans member. Three fingers, Clive could feel the stretch, and he knew all he wanted was the Professor inside him.
'Layton please, I'm ready.'
The man nodded and leaned Clive back down on the bed, Clive's face was flushed and his skin had a thin layer of sweat over it. Layton lifted the boys legs up to rest on his shoulders. He poured some of the cool liquid over himself and rubbed before he slid into the man under him.
'A-ah! Layton…nnn' Clive moaned out. The other man slowly and gently rocked his hips. Until the man nodded. He drew himself out before thrusting in again. Both letting out a shocking moan.
'God, Clive.' He continued thrusting into the other. Clive's arms had wrapped around the Professors neck, his nails digging into the mans shoulders. Layton leaned in a bit the crook of Clive's neck, emitting another moan from him. Their lips met roughly, bruising against the others tongues prodding each other.
The thrusting became faster and deeper as both men reached their climax. Clive screaming out for the Professor while he released. Layton released after a few thrusts more, collapsing on the other.
They lay there, breathing heavily, Clive still trying to figure out if he had slipped and knocked himself into some crazy coma. Reassuringly the Professor placed his lips against Clive's gently. Taking him out of his thoughts. Clive let a breath out for once.
'I… I love you.'
'I love you too, Clive.' Hershel smiled that perfect gentleman's smile, then pulled the covers over them both. 'Thank you.' Their lips met again and Clive moved himself to rest his head on the Professors chest. The sound of the very real heart, coaxing him into sleep.
